Whisperings of Guilt and Blame
by Sapphire-luna232
Summary: Lloyd wakes Kratos from a nightmare. Essentially the reverse of A Second Start. Two part oneshot. Oyako only.
1. Stifled Cries

A/N- I was originally going to have a big long back story at the beginning where I explained what they were doing there at Luin instead of out saving the world, but it broke the mood of the story so completely that I just decided to take it out and stick it in the author's note instead- so here it is! Anyway, as you could probably already tell, this story takes place after "A Second Start". The party has gone all the way to the Tower of Salvation, through Vinheim, found the Sacred Stone that allowed them to return to the destroyed room in the Tower, and decided to go back so that they could re-supply and better prepare themselves for the battle with Mithos. When they got back, both Sheena and Regal asked if they could go take care of some last minute business in Tethe'alla. The group gave them a Rheaird, and then took the rest over to Sylvarant where they decided to kill some spare time at Luin, the city they had become rather attached to after they did so much to help rebuild it. So, yeah. This is another two-part oneshot that takes place while they're waiting for Regal and Sheena to get back. Sorry if that was a bit confusing!

-Sapphire-

Whispers of Guilt and Blame

Part 1- Stifled Cries

"Bye, Professor! G'night, Genis!" Lloyd waved a hand at the two figures melting into the darkness as they made their way across the wooden bridge. He watched as the short half-elf bounced up and down wildly, his own hand waving enthusiastically back in the direction of his best friend.

"See you tomorrow, Lloyd!" The small mage wheeled around and leaped forward, and was immediately consumed by the low-hanging mists that were typical of Luin at night. The older Sage sibling, still visible due to her vibrant orange outfit, followed more slowly, turning slightly to face her student as she walked away.

"Have a good night, Lloyd. And don't forget to review your tables before bed; I may decide to give a short quiz on them tomorrow." Lloyd groaned and rolled his eyes, but continued watching until even the Professor could no longer be seen. Sighing, the swordsman leaned back against the short fence surrounding part of the Phoenix Inn, scratching absently at a loose splinter with his fingernail.

/_Tables _again… _does it ever end?_/

Unfortunately for Lloyd, it probably wouldn't. Not at any time in the near future, at least. None of them had any idea when Regal and Sheena would return from their business trips to Tethe'alla, and Professor Raine had decided that every spare moment of their time would be dedicated to going over all that they had learned from her in the past year or so since they had begun their Journey of Regeneration.

_/Crazy Professor…/ _Lloyd thought fondly, looking out across the dark lake to where he knew the houseboat was docked, though he couldn't see it. The swordsman quirked his mouth in amusement as he remembered how difficult it had been for Genis to convince his sister that living in the houseboat for a few days would help lessen her water phobia. It had taken the better part of a day for her to even consider considering the proposition. In the end, however, common sense won out, and she admitted that it might be beneficial.

The fog-like substance pressed closer, and Lloyd shivered slightly, feeling a little claustrophobic despite being outdoors. Scuffing his foot against the cobblestones in the street in an attempt to distract his thoughts, the young swordsman sighed again and decided that he'd better get to bed.

_/And review those tables…/ _Lloyd pushed himself off of the fence and walked around the corner to begin his ascent of the covered stairway leading to the room he was sharing with his father. He stepped softly as he walked up the solidly-built stairs of the inn, so as not to wake any of the others that had gone to bed before the Professor's study session had ended. Placing a hand on the door, Lloyd slowly pushed it open and entered the dark room. He then turned around and closed it quietly, trying as hard as he could to not make any noise. Presea was a fairly sound sleeper, but Collette had never truly lost her angel senses, and as for Kratos….

Placing his study supplies on the desk next to his bed, Lloyd turned towards the only other bed in the room, hoping that he hadn't woken its occupant. Almost immediately, the young man could see that he needn't have worried about waking his father…

…and then began to worry for a completely different reason.

From his vantage point at the door, it had appeared as though Kratos was asleep- and indeed he was. Now that Lloyd was paying attention, however, he could see that it was not nearly as peaceful a sleep as he had first assumed.

"Kratos?" The swordsman whispered softly as he began to walk towards the bed. As he drew closer, the concern in Lloyd's face deepened as he saw how much his father was shaking. It almost looked as though…

Lloyd stepped up to the side of the bed and shook his head slightly, wincing in sympathy. Even while dreaming, the mercenary tried to remain as stoic and possible. Based on his own personal experience, Lloyd knew just how difficult a feat that was.

"Kratos…" The young man brought his hand up to waist height, beginning to reach out, but started and stepped back as the unconscious man gave a particularly violent jerk, his own hands clenching into white-knuckled fists. Strands of auburn hair had plastered themselves to his sweat-covered forehead, and his teeth ground themselves audibly. Abruptly, his teeth unclenched themselves, and he gasped sharply, uttering a string of short, choppy words.

"No- no, Anna, I-" Unwilling to hesitate any longer than he already had, Lloyd reached out and grabbed his father firmly by the shoulder in an attempt to wake the man.

"Kratos!" He whispered, trying not to alert the girls still sleeping in the adjacent room. "Kratos- Dad- wake up! C'mon, Dad, you've gotta-"

His father's eyes flew open, instantly wary and not just a little paranoid. Suddenly, Lloyd's gaze was not resting on the seraph's face, but rather at the point where the ceiling met the wall, as he bent his head back, trying to ease the pressure of the sharp edge of the dagger biting into the flesh of his throat. Lloyd swallowed convulsively, grimacing as he felt the blade cut shallowly into the skin, his voice shaky as he spoke.

"…D-Dad…?"

Kratos' eyes widened as the wavering plea pierced his sleep-induced fuzziness, and focused slowly on the frightened face of the boy in front of him.

"Lloyd…!" Horrified, the mercenary jerked the weapon away from his son's exposed flesh. The muscles in his hand spasmed, and he released the hilt, letting it clatter to the floor. Staring in disbelief, his eyes slid out of focus once again. Kratos brought up a shaking hand to run it through his hair, but finding that to be an impossible task, as tangled and disheveled as it was, he altered the movement so that the hand was joined by another, both of them coming together to cover as much of his face as they could. Although the words were slightly muffled when he finally found the will to speak, the agony in his voice was unmistakable.

"L-Lloyd… oh, goddess, Lloyd, I-"

"Hey," Lloyd said gently, kicking the fallen dagger to the side as he sat down on the edge of the bed, shifting the mattress with the added weight. "It's okay. Really." He glanced away for a second as he continued. "I admit I had a bit of a flashback to Triet, but just like then, it was my fault- not yours." The swordsman turned his gaze back towards the pain-filled eyes of his father. "And besides… any 4000-year-old habit has got be pretty hard to break." Lloyd gave a slight smile as Kratos choked on a half-laugh, his hands coming away from his face to wipe at his sweaty brow. The mirth in his eyes died quickly, however, and guilt soon crept back into the mercenary's face.

"Be that as it may… it still does not excuse my actions."

"Well, duh. It's a reason, not an excuse." Kratos shook his head tiredly in exasperation at his son's unique logic, massaging the sore muscles in his arm. He didn't know exactly how long he had they had been tensed for, but judging form the discomfort, the man guessed it must have been several minutes.

"I should have been more aware of my surroundings; I apologize." Lloyd sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Hey- I _said _it wasn't your fault. If _I _don't care, why should you?" The seraph raised an eyebrow as he looked at his son, gently lifting his chin to examine the shallow cut he had unintentionally inflicted upon the boy. A murmured "first aid" and the small wound sealed itself- the only evidence that it had ever existed in the first place being a tiny drop of blood where one end of the cut had been, which Kratos gently wiped away with the edge of his shirt sleeve.

"Because although you may tend to think otherwise, the judgments you make rarely prove to be consistently accurate." The berated boy crossed his arms and glared playfully at his accuser.

"Well, ex_cuuuuuuuse_ me, Mr. I-Can-Do-No-Wrong. Four thousand years might make you smarter than me, but it sure as heck doesn't make you perfect. You can be wrong too, sometimes… I think…." Kratos dropped his gaze to the hands in front of him as Lloyd trailed off uncertainly.

"No… you're right. I am certainly not perfect, nor are my methods or choices always the best. It is good that I have someone willing to remind me." The mercenary's voice hardened, and he began to sound a bit more like how Lloyd was used to hearing him. His tone, however, contained far more self-disdain than it usually did. The young swordsman glanced away uncomfortably.

"I- I'm sorry… I didn't mean-"

"No, Lloyd, it is I that should be apologizing, not you." Kratos held up as Lloyd's mouth opened again, effectively preventing the imminent string of protests.

"I believe we have gone in quite enough circles for one night." The young man rose from the bed as his father gestured for him to move, and then stood as well. "Now," Kratos said, searching blindly about the dark floor for a heavier shirt than that which he had on, finding one, and pulling it over his head, "If you'll excuse me," he walked across the room, grabbing up the sword that had lain against the wall and strapping it to the ever-present belt he wore around his waist, "I think I will take a short walk before returning to bed. I'll be back shortly." The mercenary paused with his hand on the door and turned to face the bewildered boy he'd left standing by his bed. "That is, of course… unless you wish to accompany me?" A tiny bit of repressed hope snuck into his voice at the end of the sentence, and the confusion was suddenly swept off of Lloyd's face, replaced by a look of dawning comprehension as he recalled a night merely a few weeks before during which his father had woken him from his own nightmare. A slow smile graced his lips, and the young man walked forward to stand next to the apprehensive man.

"Sure, Dad."

And with that, father and son strode though the open door and down the stairs, walking side by side underneath the bright stars through the empty streets of Luin.

---------------------------------------------------------

A/N- Well, there you go- the first part! Yes, there will be a second one. Eventually. Probably. Maybe. If I feel motivated enough to write it. If I do (which I really, really hope I do), I think it'll focus mainly on what provoked Kratos' nightmare, and Lloyd doing some of that awkward preaching that he's slowly become famous for. Yep. That's about it, I think. See you next time! As always, questions, comments, corrections and/or suggestions are welcome!

And don't forget- reviewing makes me update faster! I don't care if you liked it, hated it, or really didn't care either way- just tell me!

-pokes the several hundred lurkers out there on the net-

Oh, and before I forget. I ran into a bit of a conundrum while writing this that a few of you may or may not have noticed. I'll give a pathetic excuse anyway :)

Right….. the issue was, why did Kratos not just use his 'first aid' abilities in "A Second Start" when it seemed so easy to do here? My excuse: I'm pretending (or saying, since I don't anybody can really prove any different) that 'first aid' can only be used on open wounds where the skin is actually split. Since in "A Second Start" Lloyd wasn't bleeding, he really only had a bump and a headache, Kratos had to use something a little different, hence my somewhat random invention of the Reflector. Sorry if you don't like it- the excuse still stands!

-Sapphire-


	2. Lessons Learned and Taught

**A/N- Here's the conclusion! It took a little longer to write than I thought it would . **

**There are parts of it I really like, and parts I'm not completely satisfied with, but I hope the latter is just the result of a writer reading their work too many times :-) **

**I may end up tweaking this chapter at some point in the future, but I'm just too tired to do it now…**

**Oh, and for those of you that care, this chapter was largely inspired by…. let's see… I think it was skit # 336, but let me double check that… yep, that's the one: "Qualifications as a Teacher".**

**Anyway, here it is- hope you enjoy!**

Whisperings of Guilt and Blame

Chapter 2- Lessons Learned and Taught

The flawless reflection of the sky- moon, stars, clouds, and all- twisted and writhed as it was forced out of shape by the invasion of heavy, well-made dwarven footwear. The disturbance was fleeting, however, and the image soon returned to its former state as the clunky boots continued on their way. Their wearer appeared to be baffled as to how his companion managed to avoid all the puddles without actually seeming to try and avoid them at all. Sighing in defeat, the young man stepped noisily into another shallow pool of water, wondering at the enigma that was his father.

Past silent stores and deserted corners they walked, heading in what Lloyd figured to be the general direction of Luin's fountain. The town wasn't very big at all- hardly any larger than Iselia, in fact, and the young swordsman couldn't see any other reason that Kratos would be headed in this particular direction. Sure enough, the man turned right as they encountered the larger-than-life-size Sheena statue and proceeded to continue walking past Luin's only weapon shop.

The small garden that the owner grew on the side of the building looked much less lively at night than it did during the day. Many of the tiny blooms had closed at the first hint of darkness, and were now awaiting the time when the sun would shine again. The leaves on the vines clung tightly to the wooden trellis standing alongside the short stone wall, looking very much as though they wished it was about ten degrees warmer. Teeth chattering as they rounded the corner and the fountain came into view, Lloyd was thinking along much the same lines. Unlike Kratos, Lloyd hadn't thought to bring any extra clothing with him, and was now beginning to regret it.

As the two of them neared the fountain, Lloyd sped up noticeably and headed for the closer of the two stone benches that had been placed near the edge of the water, but to Kratos' surprise, the swordsman did not sit down on it- rather, he walked around the end and sat down on the grassy bank, his back against the stone and his knees drawn up to his chest.

"What?" Lloyd asked defensively as the mercenary gave him a strange look. "It'll be warmer this way; less wind, at least."

"Indeed." Kratos stated bluntly as he lowered himself onto the ground next to his son. "Though I hope you remember this the next time you decide to leave the inn in the middle of the night."

"Hey," Lloyd countered, raising his head from his knees just far enough so that he could glare at his father. "This was your idea, not mine, remember?" Kratos smirked and looked out across the silent, mist-covered lake.

"True, although I shouldn't think you would need to be reminded of proper outdoor wear, regardless of whose idea it was." Lloyd rolled his eyes at the mild scolding.

"You're impossible…"

Kratos made sound that might have amounted to indifference, had Lloyd not caught a glimpse of the man's expression as he turned his head. The boy's eyebrows furrowed in concern as he turned to face his companion.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

The mercenary shook his head slightly and closed his eyes, raising one hand to rub at the bridge of his nose.

"Nothing. It's only… your mother used say that on an almost daily basis. I think you're more like her than you know, Lloyd."

"Really?" The swordsman felt a bit stunned as he absorbed this information. A smile was the only affirmation Kratos gave, but for Lloyd, it was more than enough. The young man relaxed back into his original position and exhaled a short breath, his eyes sad as he searched out the distant horizon.

"I wish I could remember more about her; it doesn't seem right that I don't."

"Why? I assure you, Lloyd: she would not think any less of you for it." Lloyd's gaze left the horizon and dropped to the ground, his fingers slowly pulling up the grass, blade by blade.

"I think… I think I know that. It doesn't make the feeling go away, though." Lloyd bit his lip. "I don't think anything can."

Kratos inclined his head and remained silent for a moment, watching the mist in front of hem as it moved, writhing and twisting atop the calm, dark water. The thoughts in his head were much the same; never staying in one shape long enough for his brain to translate the concepts into words. So he continued staring ahead, saying nothing. For long minutes they simply sat in silence, listening to the gentle, constant lapping of water against shore, relaxing in each other's company. It was a kind of silence that few are ever truly familiar with- one in which no words are spoken because, simply put, none are needed.

Shivering as the wind picked up, Lloyd turned his face towards the sky, his eyes widening in surprise as the clouds above him drifted slowly apart to reveal a vast, velvety blackness sprinkled with tiny stars. The young man stared into the emptiness, physical discomfort forgotten as fleeting glimpses of long-lost memories flashed in the back of his mind. A surge of emotion swept through him as he gazed upwards, and suddenly Lloyd felt as though the world was spinning fast beneath him. He gasped a lungful of air, his open mouth unable to close, and his fingers digging into the cold, wet earth. Then, the clouds came together once more, and just as quickly as the feeling had hit him, it was gone. In the aftermath of the surge, Lloyd felt strangely empty, and his eyes slid closed, his body slumping sideways. There was a stillness… time slowed, stopped, and then seemed to cease to exist completely. He felt content to simply continue drifting in the nothingness……

Gradually, Lloyd became aware of something shaking him, of a voice speaking urgently in his ear. Snapping his eyes open, he found himself face to face with the sort of frantic worry only a parent can muster.

"Lloyd! Lloyd, are you alright?" The boy's eyes focused on those his father's. He turned his head to the side, intending to look around himself, and blinked in surprise when grass tickled his cheek and the side of his forehead.

"Uh, Kratos…" Lloyd turned his confused face back to the man hovering anxiously above him. "…why am I on the ground?"

"Lloyd…" Kratos breathed a small sigh of relief and grasped his upper arm tightly. "Come, let's get you up." Bracing one foot again the ground, he slid one hand underneath the boy's back, just below his right shoulder, and used the other to grip the back of the opposite arm, slowly maneuvering Lloyd into a sitting position. The swordsman took a deep breath and fought off the dizziness trying to assault him. The hand on his back disappeared, but the one on his arm remained, steadying him until his vision was clear and he felt stable again.

"Are you alright?" Kratos asked again, albeit in a much calmer tone of voice. Lloyd looked at the man crouched in front of him, feeling dazed but able to think.

"I… yeah. I think so." He shook his head. "I don't… I don't know why… I must be really tired or something…"

"Lloyd…" Kratos' grip on his son's sleeve tightened. "You did not simply fall asleep; you lost consciousness. I think you should rest here while I go fetch Ms. Sa-"

"No, I'm okay." Lloyd spoke forcefully, trying to inject as much strength into his voice as he could. "You don't need to wake her up. I was just… a little out of it for a second, that's all." He rolled his eyes slightly at Kratos' disapproving look. "We can talk to her about it tomorrow if you really want, I just don't see why we need to disturb her right now. But… one thing:…" The mercenary tilted his head, partly in anticipation of the request, and partly in confusion as to why Lloyd's face was so flushed.

"The word 'faint' is to be completely off-limits during the conversation, yeah?"

Kratos smirked and patted the top of his son's shoulder slightly in reassurance.

"Agreed."

Leaning back against the bench, he looked questioningly at the boy sitting beside him. "May I ask what brought on that… unusual episode?"

Lloyd ran a hand through his hair and looked at the top of his knees. "I don't know. It was really weird. I was just looking at the sky, and I… I remembered."

The seraph lifted a single, auburn eyebrow.

"Remembered?"

"Yeah… it wasn't really a memory, though… not an image, or anything. More like a feeling, but a lot stronger."

"And what did this… 'feeling' feel like?"

Lloyd was silent a moment as he reflected upon the brief experience.

"It was like… there was something missing. Well, not 'missing', exactly, but something that was there and now… isn't. When the feeling was there, I was happy… in a sad way. When it left, I just felt… empty." The boy's voice grew quiet towards the end, and he looked up at his father uncertainly. The eyes he found were filled with pain, regret, and… understanding?

"Longing…." Kratos whispered softly, giving name to the elusive emotion. Placing an arm around Lloyd's shoulders, he gently drew Lloyd closer so that the boy's head rested on his chest, just underneath his chin. The position was not unlike the one they had assumed a few weeks earlier on the terrace, only this time there were no tears- just a quiet sadness shared by both of them.

Eventually, Lloyd opened his eyes and looked up at his father, who had closed his as well some time before. Not wanting to break the peace but unable to withhold the question burning inside him, he listened to the steady rhythm of the man's heart a few seconds longer before speaking softly.

"Dad?"

His only reply was a low 'Hm?' that sounded more akin to a grunt than an actual question. Lloyd continued hesitantly.

"I… I know it's really none of my business, but… before I woke you up, you were talking in your sleep, and you said mom's name. It sounded like…" His voice trailed off as he felt the pulsing beat beneath his ear quicken, and he glanced up in time to see the mercenary's eyes fly open. Feeling the muscles in the arms around him tense, Lloyd began to pull away, apologizing frantically.

"I- I'm sorry! That was really rude, I-" He fell silent as the strong arms tightened; not so much that he couldn't have broken free if he'd tried, but enough so that it prevented the boy's half-hearted attempts at leaving.

"No, it's alright. I just wasn't expecting it… although perhaps I should have been." Kratos looked down at Lloyd intently, trying to banish the lingering doubt in his eyes.

"I'm not upset, Lloyd."

Searching the face above him and finding only truth, the boy gave a small nod and leaned against his father once again, relaxing slowly. Heaving a very un-seraph-like sigh, Kratos wrapped his arms about his son once more and raised his head to look out across the lake, contemplating his next words.

"This… was not the first time I've had that particular dream."

"Really?"

"Yes. Much like your own, I believe my… 'dreams' to be a subconscious manifestation of my repressed fears. Especially those with which I would rather avoid confrontation." The mercenary jumped slightly as Lloyd laughed and sent vibrations running along his front, and looked down in surprise.

"You're nuts if you think I understood even half of what you just said."

Surprise faded quickly into amusement.

"Hm. Let's just say it was very similar in nature to the one I witnessed you experiencing a few weeks ago."

The desire to laugh fled, and Lloyd looked up into his father's eyes, disbelief filtering into his own.

"You mean she… blamed you?"

Kratos avoided his gaze, the muscles in his face tightening. His arms went slack as Lloyd pulled away and rose as near to eye-level with the man as he could get.

"Dad, I know I don't remember much about her, but I have a hard time believing she would say anything like-"

"You're right," Kratos interrupted, "she wouldn't have." The mercenary closed his eyes and ran a few fingers through his hair. "But that doesn't make what she says any less true."

Lloyd swallowed, knowing the question had to be asked, hating that he was going to be the one to do it.

"… And what _does_ she say?"

The hand fell, giving into gravity, and Kratos opened his eyes to stare unseeing at the empty air before him.

"…That I was one of Mithos' most trusted companions. That I was his teacher. That it was my duty to guide him, and that in failing to do so, I am responsible for what he has become. That not only am I to be condemned for my own sins, but for the ones he has committed as well, as it was I who allowed him to walk this path when there was so much more I could have done to try and prevent him from following it." Kratos drew in a shaky breath. "That what is happening is, undeniably, my fault." These last two words were said hardly above a whisper, and the silence that followed was absolute. Lloyd sat in a horrified trance, unable to believe what he was hearing. After several long seconds had passed, Kratos glanced absently at his son, and then blinked twice in rapid succession, taken aback at the anger that was slowly transforming the swordsman's face.

"You're kidding, right? There's no _way_ you can actually _believe_ all that."

The seraph's eyes narrowed in pain.

"Lloyd-"

"No, _listen_ to me; you-"

"Lloyd, you cannot argue against that which is fundamentally true."

The anger drained out of the young man's face as he took in Kratos' expression, but the determination remained.

"That's what I'm trying to tell you- it's _not_."

Kratos sighed and rubbed his forehead with the heel of one hand.

"And how could you possibly know that?"

"Hey, I'm getting there. I'm… not very good at explaining things, though, so it might take a minute."

"Or an hour. In either case, I supposed there are no pressing matters I need to take care of, so please: do enlighten me."

Lloyd rolled his eyes and whacked his father on the arm, earning himself a weak glare in return.

"Right. Anyway… let me start out with this- how long did you travel with Mithos before Martel was killed?"

A mild look of confusion crossed the mercenary's face.

"A year, perhaps two. Why?"

Lloyd waved his hands impatiently.

"Like I said, I'm getting there. Would you say he considered you his teacher pretty much the entire time?"

"Well, I-"

"Yes or no?"

"I- yes, I suppose." Kratos appeared somewhat flustered at the rapid-fire questions. "May I inquire as to what this has to do with _any_ of what we were just discussing?"

Lloyd ignored the question and continued with his own interrogation.

"Are there any major differences between Mithos' mentorship experience and mine?"

Kratos closed his eyes and scratched at his nose in an irritated manner.

"Lloyd, we have been over this before; I-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. All that stuff about you not 'having the right to guide anyone.' That's part of what I'm arguing _against_, remember? And… as much as you may not want to admit it, you _have _taught me a lot." A quick grin. "More than Professor Sage ever managed to beat into my head, anyway." The mirth disappeared, replaced by a serious look rarely seen on the young man's face.

"I… I wouldn't be who I am today if it weren't for you."

Pain returned to crimson eyes.

"Neither would Mithos."

"Argh, you're not listening! It-" Lloyd threw his head back in a gesture of exasperation and cut himself off abruptly, moaning a soft "ow…" as he hit the top of the stone bench in the process. Rubbing the sore spot, he thought back over the previous few seconds.

"Great, now I forgot where I was going with that… fine, we'll just go back to the original question." Giving the back of his head one last rub, Lloyd dropped his hand and tapped a finger against his knee as he thought a moment before speaking again.

"So… assuming that I _do _consider you a mentor, that I don't care about your opinion on the matter, and that my thinking so makes it true…. _are _there any big differences between how you taught Mithos and how you're teaching me?"

"Apart from the fact that the experiences themselves took place several millennia removed from each other?... nothing radical, as far as I can tell."

"So when you compare them, they're pretty much the same?"

Kratos nodded once, the confusion back on his face.

"Alright, then. If that's the case, why didn't I turn out the same as Mithos?"

The seraph stared, unable to do anything but look uncomprehendingly at his son, the muscles in his face slack, his eyes vacant with shock. Lloyd let the silence stretch for several long seconds before continuing.

"I'll _tell_ you why. Or try to, at least. You see…. even though I think it's true that teachers should guide their students as well as they're able to, I also think there's a point where the student has to grow a bit on their own; you know, teach themselves a thing or two. When that time comes, no matter how much their mentor has taught them, it's the student that has to make the decision to keep on going." Lloyd stared hard at his father, trying to drive his point home, willing him to understand. "When Martel died… I think Mithos just lost the will to learn. That was when he had to make a choice, and he chose to become Yggdrasil. I honestly don't think there's anything you could've done to stop it." The swordsman fell silent, his argument made, giving Kratos a chance to let everything sink in.

And sinking it was: the mercenary reeled internally as he realized Lloyd had essentially just torn his four thousand-year-old belief system into tiny, little, itsy-bitsy pieces, scattering them about so much in the process that it was virtually impossible to put back together. Four thousand years of believing he was responsible, that he should be held accountable… four thousand years of guilty motivation… four thousand years of unproven sin…. all of it banished in scant seconds by the words of a sixteen-year-old boy.

No- not a boy. Not a man, either, but certainly not a boy. Not if he could reason like that….

Kratos jerked back into the present as he felt a hand squeeze his own white-knuckled fist. It took three full seconds to realize that Lloyd was, in fact, attempting to talk to him.

"-ad? Dad, are you okay?"

The seraph then did something he only ever got emotional enough to do every other century or so- he acting without thinking, completely on impulse. Reaching forward and grabbing Lloyd by the shoulders, Kratos pulled him into a tight embrace. Unlike the previous occasions, however, this hug was not meant for Lloyd- it was _Kratos _who needed the physical comfort this time. His hands shook and twisted the material on the back of the young man's shirt into wrinkled clumps of fabric, his throat swallowing convulsively as he tried to retain some small measure of composure.

Slowly overcoming the shock of being yanked into his father's arms, Lloyd relaxed into the embrace and brought his own up to encircle the older man. He listened as Kratos' shaky breathing slowly became steady, felt the hands on his back grow still.

"Lloyd," A low voice spoke from slightly behind his ear, "I may be four thousand years your senior, but it is moments such as these that make me understand how wise you truly are, and in ways that I will never fully comprehend."

The young man in his arms shook with laughter.

"_Me_? Wiser than _you_? Man, I don't know _what_ you had for dinner, but it's _obviously _messing with your mind…"

Kratos smiled briefly in reluctant amusement.

"On the contrary, this is the first time I have been able to think clearly in years. Wisdom is not measured by mere knowledge alone, Lloyd. Your ability to change how others perceive the world is part of what enables you to be empathetic towards their cause. This empathy helps you understand their actions, but does not necessarily coerce you into agreeing with how they choose to go about achieving their goals. This, in turn, allows you to differentiate between the 'wrong' methods and the 'right' ones." Kratos tightened his hold on the swordsman momentarily, and then pulled back to look him in the eye. "That, Lloyd, is true wisdom."

"Well, is it possible to be wise _and _stupid? 'Cause I really didn't get any of that."

"Hm. Wise and blissfully ignorant, perhaps, but stupid you most definitely are not."

"Uh, thanks… I think…"

"I did not intend for that statement to seem offensive."

"I _know _that; I just- oh, forget it..."

"As you wish." Kratos' tone was mocking in a slightly playful manner. The expression on his face was a rare one; Lloyd might even have dared to say it resembled 'carefree'- or as close to it as someone with four thousand of memories could get. All too soon, however, the look faded, and the man's features gradually settled into their traditional arrangement.

"In all seriousness, Lloyd… although I do not doubt the truthfulness of your words, I admit I believe it will take time to fully accept them. During the day, I may be able to ward 'it' off, but at night… the unguarded mind is always more susceptible to fear and doubt." Lloyd nodded reluctantly.

"I know the dream probably won't go away immediately- mine didn't. But every time it comes now, I just tell 'them' what you told me, and they go away. I still feel… well, I don't feel good when I wake up, but it's not nearly as bad as before."

"That is good to hear; I'm glad."

"Yeah. I hope yours are the same. Or that you don't have them at all anymore, of course, but since you don't think that'll happen… just keep it in mind, okay?"

"I will certainly endeavor to do so."

"Goo- oooooaaahh-" The corner of Kratos' mouth twitched as the young man's word was caught in a giant, jaw-popping yawn. Standing silently, he turned around and offered his hand to the swordsman still sitting on the ground.

"It is late. We had best be getting back to the inn."

Lloyd took the hand without hesitation and allowed himself to be helped to his feet. Once standing, though, his hand was not immediately released. The young man looked at his father, their eyes meeting.

"Thank you, Lloyd, for helping me to understand."

The hand squeezed, and then let go. Lloyd blushed at the look of gratitude Kratos gave him, but smiled and shrugged a bit, replying easily.

"Hey, no problem. You did the same for me; I'm just returning the favor."

"Humph." Was the only thing the man answered with, apparently having had reached his emotional quota for the day when it came to communication. His arm reached around Lloyd's shoulders when he yawned again, however, steadying the young man as he swayed a bit in exhaustion, fighting to keep his eyes open. And that was how they walked back through the town: Lloyd stumbling over the dark ground, yawning periodically; Kratos guiding and supporting him as they made their way slowly back to the room.

When they finally entered, Lloyd paused just long enough to kick his boots into the corner before tumbling onto the bed, his eyes shut tight and his limbs in a number of awkward-looking positions. Unfastening his own footwear, Kratos placed them to one side of the door and walked over to stand next to the bed where the young man was lying, his body completely motionless.

"Lloyd, get up."

"Nnn…m'comfy…" A muffled voice reached the seraph's keen ears, despite its having been directed at the pillow.

"That may be the case as of this moment, but I assure you that your opinion will have changed come morning if you fall asleep like that. Now, move over."

Incomprehensibly groaning something about picky people, evil mercenaries, and 'meanies' in general, Lloyd rolled over onto his side and waited a few seconds as Kratos leaned over and worked the covers out from beneath him, and then rolled back into his original position, curling into the blankets his father wrapped about him. The young man sighed contentedly and snuggled into the warmth, murmuring what the man interpreted as a sleepy 'thanks'. Kratos' hand rested atop his son's head a moment as he gazed down, affection deep in his eyes.

"Sleep well, Lloyd."

"You too, Dad."

And for the remainder of the night, each reassured by the presence of the other, they did.

----------------------------------------------------------

**A/N- **

**-blinks-**

**Did I just use the words 'Kratos' and 'playful' in the same sentence….?**

**-looks back over the previous chapter-**

**Did I just use the words 'Kratos' and '_fuzziness_' in the same sentence?**

**-blinks again-**

**Wow, time to get some sleep, Sapphire…….**

**-stumbles off to bed-**

**Hopefully I'll wake up and find a few reviews waiting! (As well as critique, suggestions, corrections, and anything else you'd like to throw in!)**


End file.
